He never regained consciousness
In all the hours I sat there.
The only sounds were the monitors’ beeping
And his staccato gasps for air.

Each breathe more labored than the last
as feeble hope turned to despair.
His extremities felt so cold,
as I sat and murmured wordless prayer.

A good life, certainly, and full;
Honor and glory both were there
As that old soldier slipped away
and his last breath rejoined the air.